Backbone
by chelsia
Summary: The notion of independence is silenced by a misshapen faucet, and everything dies on Lithuania's tongue. Russia/Lithuania, pairing implied


Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia!

A/N: THIS IS FOR THE WONDERFUL LIGHT~! I need to make ANOTHER fic though because my original idea for this just did not fit, so... expect a Russ/Liet AU sometime this week oAo I know, I'm actually doing shit on FF... THIS IS GOOD.

Warnings: Detailed violence on poor Liet's part :U! idk

----

**B A C K B O N E**

_When the Russian gradually, _finally_, withdraws the bent faucet from Lithuania's back, he looks at his work at he has created. The brunette lay in a crumpled mess, deformed back exposed to the icy nation. A soft, pathetic whimpering was barely audible, but it was there, coming from the bloodied lips of the Baltic nation._

_ "Get up," Russia says gently, stepping closer as to so he could hover over the smaller man. The Lithuanian lay still for a while, before struggling with all his might to support himself on weak elbows."See, Liet; this is what happens when you try to declare your independence from Russia... from me..." Lithuania made no response._

_ Toris was a pitiful sight; a beautiful array of varying cool blues and purples were splotched on pale skin, running from top to bottom of his bony spine, and everywhere in between. Old wounds and abrasions marring his back had been reopened from the constant, pounding force of pipe to skin, leaving pools of crimson to cry from raw flesh and spill down jutting ribs. Russet hair was matted with both sweat and blood, mussed from those strong fingers grabbing handfuls of his locks and mercilessly pulling at it. His face was tear-streaked and dirtied, ashamed. The only thing left, per say, 'alone', was the Baltic's chest; but even that was flecked with the occasional scratch and hickey, proof that Ivan had been there, had claimed him._

_ Not being able to try his best and hold himself up anymore, the Lithuanian collapsed back on the cold floor, battered frame weakly balling up into child's pose. Pitiful._

_ "Get up," The Russian says once more, but a bit louder in case Lithuania had not heard him. A minute and no response later, Russia decided he had lost the brunette's attention somehow or the other. His slick boot lifted and the heel cozily ground itself into Toris's back, which earned a terrible yowl of agonizing pain and terror from the abused country. _

_ "So you _were_ listening to me after all!" Ivan childishly accuses, and brings the pipe back up over his head, a dangerous edge to his voice as well as amethyst, glinting eyes._

_ And Liet can feel it, can hear it, as the horrible weapon is brought with a '_whoosh_' over the blonde's broad shoulders, the absolute terror of the monster behind him ready to stike._

_ Suddenly, the faucet is brought down at and alarming rate with horrible strength, and..._

Lithuania woke up, jolting bolt upright from his bed, emerald eyes wide and vision blurred. Ragged breaths escape from an agape mouth, trying to suspend any traces of that dream becoming a reality. No, no... Russia was nowhere near him. Near here. Not in a million years would the bear of a man try to sneak into America's home and steal him away... no.

In a shaky voice, he continued to repeat to himself that it was, "Just a dream...". No, it wasn't a dream; it was a nightmare.

More so calmed than before, the Lithuanian chanced a glance at the clock; the time was nearing dawn, and Toris is convinced that no amount of sleeping pills or remedies will be able to soothe him back into sleep. _Might as well get up and start breakfast for Mr. America..._

As he stood, he could not stop the sharp cry that escaped; hands quickly moved to cover his own mouth, but it didn't help lessen the ache and pain of remembrance searing in his back. Russia had not touched him in almost a year, but still... the unpleasant memory of the cold nation's fingers were as tangible as ever.

-------------------

"Your coffee, sir!"

The American put the newspaper in front of him down, and those brilliant blue eyes seemed to light up at the warmed beverage that had been served. But, Lithuania suspected, the reason for Alfred's surprised expression was not due to the daily routine of caffeine serving in the morning... it was what it was served _in_.

The coffee was in a fancy little teacup with the Union Jack painted on china; Arthur had sent it to America just recently, and judging from the blonde's reaction, it was without the latter's consent.

America looked up at Lithuania, a dazzling grin being flashed. "What, is this England's early birthday present to me or something?"

The Lithuanian chuckled a bit. "I suppose so, sir. It came in the mail the other day, but there was no card or anything attached, so..."

"I suppose I'll get just call him later!" Alfred concluded, nodding satisfactorily and picking up the cup and taking a sip. There was some sort of glazed-over look in his eyes, something of the past, before they returned to meet Lithuania's. His grin had turned into a small, saddened smile. "When are you finally gonna get your freedom from that awful communist?"

The Baltic went silent. "I... when the time comes, I suppose. Would you like some more?"

"...Do you mind if I have it in a mug instead?"

Toris nodded. "Whatever you'd like, Mr. America."

-------------------

The door bell's ring echoed through those large, cream-colored walls of the hallway, and managed to reach Lithuania's ears. The brunette had been dusting the mantle of the grand fireplace, but soon abandoned the task and so he could fetch the door. America had gone out, the reason of which the Lithuanian can vaguely remember, and it was just the Baltic nation and a few other maids scattered among the blonde nation's house.

Opening the door, Lithuania's feet suddenly failed him, and all he could do is shut it back in the visitor's face. The wound in his back exploded, and he was on the floor, head cradled in hands, back gingerly pressed to the smooth wood of the heavy, cherry oak door.

That was just not Russia's face that greeted him. It couldn't of been.

...But it was, wasn't it?

The voice that had haunted Lithuania for years stealthily crept through the cracks of the door, ghosting around to meet his ears. "Liet, open up~!" His heart was slamming against his chest, clawing its way up his throat, just wanting _out_. Why would Russia come here?! It was America's house, after all, the very last place Toris expected the large nation to even dare approach...

"Come on, Liet," Russia continued to say, and Lithuania could hear the smile in his voice. "I just wanted to talk to you..."

_And that's the exact reason why I don't want to open the door!_, The brunette inwardly snapped back, but could never find the strength to ever utter those words to his old master.

"Please?"

And then... that was all it took, he supposed, since Lithuania could not understand why he was slowly getting up, hands trembling as they were controlled by some unknown, invisible strings that still connected him to the Russian puppeteer. The door eased open, and soon the icy country's content face was in view. If it was anybody but Ivan, Toris would have said the happy smile looked 'cute' on such a man as him.

But the fact was that it _was_ Russia, and that this expression that he wore was destined to be flawed with insincerity so he could secrete inner afflictions.

"Privyet, Lithuania," He said, purple eyes taking in his former subordinate. It had been so long since he had last seen the Baltic nation...! "How have you been, da?"

"F-fine, sir," Toris's words were rushed, and he began to unconsciously wring his hands together, green eyes trained on the Russian's boots. The horrible nightmare from last night blinded him for a second, and all he could feel was the heel dug deep in a gash near his lower back, pushing in further as he screamed mercy. Shaking his head, he tried to rid the thought, tried to look at anything except the blonde... "A-and yourself?"

His huge bear paw of a hand rose, and Lithuania openly flinched, expecting for it to make contact with his cheek. It did, but not in the way Toris was thinking; Ivan's hand gently cupped the other man's cheek, thumb tenderly running along it. "I have been fine, but I have missed my Liet. When will you come back?"

The words 'never' or 'get real' were ready to spring out of Toris's mouth like two boxers on their toes, but died as the smaller nation only muttered an inaudible 'I don't know'. He's expecting Russia to get angry now, but... the man doesn't.

"Awwh," A pout, a _pout!_ Lithuania, flabbergasted that the Russian dared to even try and pull one off, stared long and hard at the great country. "I really do miss you, Liet... home is just not home without you!"

"But Mr. Russia," He quickly insisted, smiling nervously. "Latvia and Estonia are there to keep you company! You shouldn't be lonely!"

The taller man shook his head and lowered himself so he was eye level with the brown-haired one. Russia's face gravitated closer towards Toris's, amethyst eyes peering through half-lidded eyelashes and down his own handsome nose, looking straight at the Baltic's welcoming, slightly parted lips. Immediately, Lithuania froze; he was contemplating punching the other (although it wouldn't do him much good...) if he tried to lay a move on him when, yet again, the other completely thwarted his original thoughts. Ivan merely pressed his forehead against the brunette's, emerald and purple eyes locked in such a moment; "I really do miss you."

When Russia pulled away, Lithuania was convinced this was not his former master. Having been with him for years, the smaller nation could easily read just the subtlest of expressions etched in his features; he could tell when that crazed monster took over him, or when it was temporarily leaving Ivan be. But this...

Ever since the time he had been opened the door and began talking to the bear of a man, he had not sensed any sort of diseased stability crack his refined mask.

"Nee, Liet," Toris stopped right in his train of thought, his dizzying mind halting in trying to piece together why the other seemed so... normal. "You will come back soon, okay?"

Now _that_ was a bit chilling. "...Uh...Mr. Rus--!"

Lithuania was cut off as America barged in, seeming to have arrived home, and noisily pushed Russia out of the way. He slung a defensive arm around the brunette's neck, keeping him close to his chest.

"Hands off, commie! You are _not _taking him away from me when I'm not around!"

The two European nations both blinked at the bright, albeit obnoxious, entrance on Alfred's part. And it was then, as the small hairs along the Lithuanian's arms and neck began to stand up, that he felt the true monster come to life.

"What ever are you talking about, America?" Ivan cheerfully inquired, and the convincing fake happiness in voice was breaking.

Blue eyes challenged amethyst in the stare down of the century. "You know what I'm talking about, Braginski. Now skedaddle, before I bring this up during the next world conference."

A silence fell over the three, in which the two proud nations tried to intimidate the other; shoulders back, full height raised, glares hardened.

And it was the Russian country to back down; Lithuania inwardly sighed in relief.

"...very well, da. I will be back," The words were delivered coldly, and make Toris shiver involuntarily; it didn't make it any better when Russia looked right at him, and the brunette could have let the fear he had for this man let his legs turn to jelly and give in.

"Hey, Russia!" America abruptly calls after the retreating figure, and the nation turns around, and everything about him emanates the loathing for the star spangled nation. He then proceeded to push the small frame of Lithuania forward, presenting the deer in front of the bear. Alfred leaned in and whispered into the brown-haired man's ear, "I think you want to tell him something; and remember, he can't hurt you as long as I'm here..."

The Baltic gulped, looked up at the man who had allowed so many blows upon his skin, so many gashes to his face, had taken him so many times...

And he just smiled. It was forced, and he could feel tears in his eyes – but it was from the helplessness, the unspoken gag stopping his words from clumsily salivating and transforming into ideas of independence that would sit far from well with the Russian nation.

"Have a good day, sir."

And Russia let the corners of his mouth turn upwards, a knowing look in his eyes. He simply turned back around and went on his way.

But he knew. He knew that the little Baltic was embraced in the black steel irons of captivity, and that for now, the one who yanked his leash would forever be Ivan. Even if Lithuania had America on his side, it would not do the trick; for if and when he came back, any backbone Toris had left would be beaten into submission, and those scars would only multiply and become impossible to fade.

He smiled. _Pitiful_.

-------------------

A/N: Apologies, that was... not very good. It was sloppily thrown together imo BUT... MY NEXT FANFIC FOR THESE TWO WILL BE TRAGIC AND GOOD. LIGHT IM SORRY PLEASE TAKE THIS FOR NOW ;___;


End file.
